The Sun Could Lead Me South
by lonelylark
Summary: Alana Cording wanted a new life, and that is exactly what she gets in this 2005 meets 1755 adventure. When she ends up on Jack Sparrow's ship, will he find her worth the trouble, or will she be more trouble than she's worth? On Hiatus
1. The Awakening

**A/N:** This is an original story (duh!) that I had the urge to write. If you read _Guess Who's Back,_ I'd like to say that I will try to work on it soon, but that I just simply_ had_ to get this first chapter out Hope you like it!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything from Pirates of the Caribbean, as much as I would like to. I do, however, own both Alana Cording and Lynda Wexler, considering they are both the same person. I also take credit for the plot, which is obviously mine since I am not a plagarist. Plagirism is illegal, just incase you didn't know. Lol.

**_Chapter One - The Awakening_**

"Well, here we are."

"Thanks. This'll be just fine."

"Good. And I'll be needing the money now."

"Right, the money. Just give me a second and…here."

"Thank you, and enjoy your stay. Dinner will be at seven."

The door clicked shut. Dropping her bags on the small bed, Alana Cording allowed her body to fall back on the twin mattress as well. Bouncing slightly to test its quality, she surveyed the room. It was small, but it would have to do. Besides, it was only a five daytrip, and then she would be free. She loved Miami, she really did, but there were some things a person had to do, and leaving her beloved city was unfortunately one of them.

'_I'll be in the Caribbean, though. At least the weather's going to be the same.'_

It was the summer of 2005. Sadly, the world had not ended in 2000 as many had surmised. That was when her troubles all began.

"It's not my problem anymore. It's in the past and it will sure as hell stay there," she whispered. A sudden jerk brought her from her reverie. Kneeling she looked through the porthole above her bed, and then laid down again, smiling. They were making way. In a matter of time, she would be sailing international waters. She imagined herself spread out on the white sands of a distant island, tanning under the hot sun, turquoise waves lapping at her toes…

"Miss Wexler?" Alana's grin faded at the short knock on her door. Sighing she got up and opened it, revealing the middle-aged man who had escorted her in the first place.

"Yes?" she asked pleasantly.

"Miss Wexler, I'm sorry to bother you again, but I owe you some change. Here, you gave me fifty over the total charge."

"Oh, thank you so much! I must've been spacing then. And please, call me Lynda – we're going to be seeing each other for quite a while before this trip ends."

"Alright, Lynda. Don't forget, dinner's at-"

"Seven. Got it!"

At last, he left, leaving Alana once again alone. Not that she minded much. _'Better no company than bad company.'_ Returning to her bed, she lay down and wrapped her arms around her two duffle bags. They were all she had to start a new life. She had done a lot of running lately, and decided that what she needed was just a good, long rest. Once she closed her eyes, Alana easily found the deep sleep that she could not grasp for a long time. _'This life will be better, Lana,' _she thought,_ 'This life will be yours to make.'_

* * *

Alana jolted upright in bed. Her forehead was wet with perspiration. She had dreamt of him yet again.

'_He's not here anymore. Just forget him; forget it all…' _She had closed her eyes to steady her breathing, to imagine all the possibilities that her new life would bring to her. Gradually she fluttered them open. When she could see everything around her, they widened. Alana felt her heart begin to race wildly, as an overwhelming pressure began to spread through her chest, giving her trouble breathing.

"What the fuck…Where the…" Her surroundings had changed. No longer was she in the room on the small ship she had boarded earlier that day. It had not been a dream, because she was not in her old room either. The room was dark. Everything was dark. All but a silver streak of moonlight coming in from the porthole across the room. So, she was on a ship. But _whose_? She felt around her looking for nothing in particular. She just wanted something that would comfort her, and she would find it. Alana nearly cried out as her hands fell upon a coarse fabric.

"Yes!" It was one of her bags. All her worldly possessions – all she had left – were in those bags. Without much effort, she managed to come across the other one. Now that they were secured in her arms, it was time for her to figure out where she was, and more importantly, how she got there. As she sat there in silence, contemplating all the reasonable explanations, the door swung open.

Alana screamed and almost fell off the bed. Another startled scream followed hers. Apparently, her visitor had not been expecting her. She heard a swoosh, and stepped away from the sound. A light then illuminated the room. There was a man standing beside the desk on which a lantern had been lit, and he was holding out a sword with a most bewildered look on his face.

"Who the **hell** are you, and where the **fuck** am I!" Alana demanded, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"I should be askin' _you_ questions!" the man yelled. "What the **bloody hell **are you doin' on my ship!"

"Now if I had come on my own, you idiot, I wouldn't be asking **you**!"

There was a short silence before the man spoke up again. He was obviously trying to stay calm.

"What's your name?"

Alana sneered. "As if you don't already know that. I wake up on your stupid ship, I don't know how the hell I got here, and now you expect me to act stupid and pretend like I don't know that you kidnapped me? You've got to be joking!"

"For the last time, you tart! I don't know who the bloody hell you are, much less from _where_ you are with that accent o' yours!"

"Hey! That's not nice, I don't go around making fun of _your_ accent! Stupid Brits…"

"Just make this easy for the both of us, will ye," he glared frustrated.

"Not until you answer my questions first." Alana replied stubbornly crossing her arms over her chest.

The man looked at her incredulously before starting. "The name's Captain Jack Sparrow. This here _not stupid_ ship is the Black Pearl." He smirked, waiting for the girl's reply. When she looked at him blankly, the smirk faded. "What now?"

"**_Well?_**"

"**_Well_** What? I answered yer questions. I told ye who I am, and where you are! As to how you got here is beyond me."

Alana huffed frustrated. This was getting her nowhere. Maybe if she let him question her new windows would open. "Alright, it's your turn. Shoot."

Jack Sparrow shook off the unusual language the woman was using and got straight to business. "How's about we start with your name? Surly you've got one of those."

'_Heck, I've got two.'_ Which one she would give him was the difficult part. "Lynda," she said finally. "Lynda Wexler."

For a moment, the man seemed amused. "You're lying," he stated plainly. Shifting his weight to one leg, he crossed his arms over his chest.

Alana Scoffed. "No, I'm not!"

'_How does he know?'_ This could be a problem. A **big **problem. "Why would I lie? Why accuse me of something so silly?"

"Because I know you are, love. And although you're quite the actress, I'm not inclined to believe ye. May fool others, but not me."

Hesitantly, she spoke up again. Surly there would be no harm in telling him. "My name…My name is Alana Cording."

"Ah, Alana – pretty name, to be sure. Now, why-"

"Forget it, Captain, it's my turn. You already had your question. What's your trade? I mean, why are you sailing?"

"My _trade_?" Jack chuckled. "The _Black Pearl_ is only one of the most legendary pirate ships in the world! Why I'm sailing, of course, is quite obvious." Sparrow frowned as Alana erupted in laughter.

"You can't **possibly** expect me to believe that crock. The only pirates left in this world are off the coast of Brazil and such, and they operate with high-speed motor boats and machine guns! Good try though."

Jack Sparrow looked at her oddly. It was now that he let his eyes scan her body, and that he noticed her unusual clothing. The pants she wore were tight fitting and hugged her hips, so that he did not have to guess how slim her thighs were. The odd shirt she had on was black and button-less, reaching almost to her collar. It read simply in white letters "Ok Go." He also did not fail to notice that it was a bit short, exposing some of her lower stomach.

"What?" The woman ceased laughing, taking Jack's attention away from his inspection of her.

"Where did you say ye were from?"

"Gees!" she sighed exasperatedly at his ignorance. "You would think that by the year 2005, with such a globalized economy, everyone would be able to tell when someone's American! I mean, that **is** what you people always say, isn't it? _'Stupid Americans!'_"

"2005?" he repeated skeptically.

"Uh, yeah! What's wrong with you, have you been stuck in a _closet_ for your whole life or something?"

"On the contrary, you're the one insane!" the captain stated frankly. Alana glared at him fiercely, not understanding. "Love, this isn't 2005. Far from it, in fact."

Alana uncrossed her arms and replaced her hands on her hips. "Then where –or should I say when – the heck are we, genius?"

Jack rolled his eyes and waved his arms. "If you'd let me finish my sentence, maybe ye wouldn't have to ask! As I was saying," he cleared his throat, "This is not 2005, it's 1755."

For the first time during their encounter, her frown was not one of anger. "This doesn't make any sense," she shook her head slowly. "I can't…this just can't… Don't lie to me, not about this."

"Why would I lie?"

"Well, if you are indeed what you claim to be, then lying would be part of the job."

"Ah, but you see, there come times when even dishonest men must be honest – honestly." The woman raised an eyebrow, confused. Tiredly, Jack sighed and ran a hand over his face, closing the door.

She watched him warily through narrowed eyes. "What are you doing?"

"Closing the door," he said obviously. "It's been a long day. I'm tired. I'm going to sleep."

"Oh, no you're not!" Alana protested as he removed his coat and vest. "I'm not staying in here!"

"You're not leaving either," the captain said firmly.

"What do you mean I'm not-"

"I don't know you well enough, therefore you're not going anywhere unsupervised at this moment." Saying so, he waltzed up to her after snatching some rope off his desk, and tossed her to the bed.

"Hey!" Alana struggled. "Get away you damn bastard!"

Despite her best efforts, Jack managed to tie both her hands to the bedposts, and then proceeded to tie her ankles together. "Will you stay still!" he ordered, ducking a swinging leg. He pinned it to the mattress and secured it to the other, slipping fabric between the coarse ropes as he had with her wrists. Completing his task, he walked around the bed and removed his boots, as Alana ranted obscenities.

"Good God, do ye ever **shut up?**" he cried, lying down beneath the bed sheets.

Alana turned her head and smiled at him evilly. "No."

Jack growled in response. He usually had a very laid-back personality, being the brigand that he was. Nevertheless, he did have one hell of a temper. Normally he would make a cheeky reply, or try to make her uncomfortable by touching her in places that no respectable man should (he never went too far, of course.) Now, however, he was simply not in the mood. It had been a long day of sailing under the sweltering sun, and he was exhausted.

"Well, shut up before I **shut you up**!" Turning his back to her fitfully, he closed his eyes and tried to forget about the woman in the bed next to him. Mind you, he did not often try to forget these things.

Alana became quite, the pirate's threat seeming to hold her back for the time being. It was when she heard his deep breathing and light snores, that she sighed. A single tear rolled down her cheek, gleaming in the moonlight. She was gone. She was as good as dead. Her life had changed drastically, and she had not the faintest idea how or when. _How_ being the better question. When was undoubtedly last night…or earlier this afternoon? Alana found that she didn't even care. All that she was, everything she ever knew, was gone. But wasn't that what she had wanted? It was all perfect. She wanted to forget, for everyone to forget her. She wanted to start a new life, where no one knew her name, knew her past. Now, no one knew her, and she knew no one. It was all ironically simple. She was convinced that the universe was laughing, and she was the joke. It had to be God punishing her for what she had done. For the first time, she almost wished she were home in her own bed.

"No," she hissed in an angry whisper at her own betraying thoughts. "I don't wish I was home. Nothing is worse than being subjected to that man." Willing the pools in her eyes to recede (for she had become very good at that), Alana closed her eyes and urged sleep to overcome her. It was not an easy task, but eventually she situated her back so that her arms were not terribly strained, and she fell into a sleep of troubled dreams. They had always been troubled dreams. They would always remain troubled memories.

"_See who am I to say this situation isn't great? When it's my job to make the most of it, of course I didn't know that it would happen to me. Not that easy." – Jason Mraz_

_

* * *

_

**A/N:**Well, that was interesting. I tried to make it a little realistic, but those efforts i'm afraid were futile. **Please R/R and give me a piece of your mind!** I would love it, really!


	2. And She Was Scandalous

**Disclaimer:**I, unfortunately, do not own Jack Sparrow and all his pilffery goodness. All I can be responsible for is Alana, Mathew, and hmmm, what else? Oh! The **_PLOT_**. Yeah, it's mine, so don't steal it. The red string bikini you can have. winks

**Ch.2 -**_ **And She Was Scandalous**_

Alana awoke with a slight grunt, eyes still closed. Her arms were in terrible pain, and there was a pressure on both sides of her body. That was when she opened her eyes. At first, it took a while for her vision to focus and for her mind to interpret where she was, but soon she recognized the man that leaned over her. "Oh, God…" she cried in dismay.

Jack straddled her frame, arms on either side of her shoulders, and grinned down on her. He had been in a foul mood last night, but after some rest, decided he might like to harass his captive for a while. Now, the sun was beginning to rise, its early rays filtering through the portholes and casting a new light on Alana's features. Her hair was straight and black with a shine that made it look like silk. He was almost tempted to touch it and measure its softness. Her skin was a light tan, and he almost laughed at the glint of exasperation that flickered in her green eyes. This was going to be fun.

"Sleep well, love?"

"No. It's funny, I was a bit uncomfortable. I have no idea why," she stated sardonically.

"I could've tired you out enough for you t'get a good night's rest, if you had only told me."

Alana scoffed at his insinuation. Rolling her eyes, she turned her head aside and began humming, ignoring him. Sometimes it was more effective than arguing, she found.

"Well," Jack said, his face turning neutral, "If you're going to be like that, I can always leave you tied up and go tend to me captainly duties." Despite his seriousness, there was still a hint of amusement in his voice.

Turning her head to face him once again, she looked him in the eyes unwaveringly. "I can think of something else that involves me being tied up," she said suggestively, her voice low and seductive. Saying so, she arched her back slightly, rubbing her leg slowly up his thigh and biting her lip.

Jack's mouth curved into a knowing grin, but as soon as it was there, it was gone. He stared daringly at the woman beneath him, who was now smiling smugly.

"Of course," she continued tauntingly, "I don't know you very well yet, so I suggest you untie me before I make you periodically incapable of screwing _anyone_."

The pirate narrowed his eyes in response to her threat. He had untied her ankles before making to untie her wrists, and now she had her knee firmly against his groin. After a moment's glare, he reached up and undid her bonds.

"Thanks very much. I must say I was getting tired of having to look at you that long." Alana snickered as Jack turned to glare at her some more, shoving his equipment – sword, gun, powder and shot – all into place in his belt. She grew worried, however, as a smile graced his features. _'Oh no, what is he up to now?'_

"Come on."

Alana stopped rubbing her wrists and rolled her sore shoulders. "What?"

"I said come on. Get up," he said signaling the door. When she didn't respond, he sighed and grabbed her arm, hoisting her to her feet and pulling her with him out the door. She was ranting of course.

"Let go of me you lunatic! What the hell are you doing?"

"Whether or not you're on my ship intentionally, you've got to pull your weight. No one here gets a free ride…Unless, of course, you're still interested in riding me?" he added cheekily.

"I've probably ridden a mechanical bull that's better than you." Yanking her arm away, she kept muttering under her breath as he looked at her with curious amusement.

"**All hands on deck!**"

Alana jumped as Jack bellowed the order. She had not expected that his voice be so loud. A crowd of men flooded the ship's waist, some still hanging low enough in the rigging so as to here their captain. All looked up at Jack expectantly, before noticing Alana. Then they all stared at her quietly.

"Mates, I'd like ye to meet Alana. Miss Cording, here, will be working with us until further notice,"

"I'll **_WHAT?_**"

"So let's make 'er feel at home, aye? Now get back to work"

When the group dispersed, some looking at her albeit suspiciously, Alana blew up. "Are you **mad?**" she questioned in hysteria. "I don't know how to do work here!" She followed Jack to the helm. "I've never even been in a dinky _sailboat_ before! How am I supposed to crew a PIRATE SHIP?"

"The crew will help ye along. 'Sides, I'm not putting you in the riggin' just yet," he waved uninterested.

"Just **yet!**"

"Captain!"

"Gibbs!" Jack cried in relief. "Love, this here's Joshamee Gibbs, me first mate. He'll be teachin' ye a lot of what you'll need to know."

The grey-haired man looked bewilderedly at his Captain. "Jack, tha's not a very good idea! You know," he said, his voice lowering an octave, "it be terribly bad luck havin' a woman aboard."

"Yes, you've told me."

"Hello! I'm right here! I can hear you, ya know!"

"What about Anna-Maria?" Jack continued, ignoring Alana completely. _'This could be fun…'_ She was getting angrier by the second.

"Well, she's not really a woman."

"Ey! I heard that!" Anna-Maria shouted from the rigging. Gibbs gulped audibly as she shook a fist in the air.

"As I was saying," Jack's voice rose above the tapping of his guest's foot, and he stared stoically out towards the ocean, "You're to teach this lass all she needs to know. I'm thinking she could start with the mending – there's plenty o' that to be done."

"You have to be joking!" This was too much. If that idiot thought she would be fixing sails or clothes for him, he had to be out of his mind. "There's no way in HELL I'm touching a needle! For all I know I could prick myself and die of tetanus! Nah-ah, no way."

"In case you haven't noticed, darling, this isn't Hell. But since ye seem so bent against mending my canvas, then I guess I'll have to give you the better job. **Mathew!**" At Jack's call, a boy about sixteen – the youngest of the crew, but too old to be a cabin boy – scurried up the quarterdeck, almost tripping over himself in his haste.

He was firm and rigid in his stance, looking at his superior almost as if looking through him. If anything, Alana guessed, he was more nervous than disciplined. "Aye, Captain!" Mathew saluted.

"Son, it seems you be moving up in the world. I'm dismissing you from your duty and changing you over towards mending. When you're dome with that, you may use the day to your liking."

The young boy was baffled. "Th-thank you, sir! I mean, C-captain!"

"Yeah, yeah. Leave your bucket here and get to work," the Captain waved dismissively. "Oh, and Mathew – try to ease up a bit, you're bein' quite a stick."

Once Mathew left, Jack turned to Alana, who was staring at him intently. He looked down. She was still tapping her foot. Taking a calming breath, he looked upward and smiled.

When he took his attention away from her sandaled foot, Alana became suspicious. Somehow, she knew this would come to no good. "What?"

She almost laughed when Jack handed her the mop and bucket left by the fidgety teenager. Alana herself was still nineteen, but she was more mature than he was, as usually happened with boys and girls. She wouldn't be surprised if she were more mature than Jack was.

"What do you expect me to do with this?"

"Swab," he said matter-of-factly. The smile on his face turned into a grin. He was enjoying this too much. Again, Alana crossed her arms over her chest, and Jack waited to hear what amusing retort would come next from her mouth. Surprisingly, all that came was a sigh of defeat, her shoulders slouching as her arms dropped.

"Okay. Just – just give me a minute to change."

Hesitating at her request, Jack nodded. He watched curiously with a furrowed brow as she strode towards his cabin. She had amazing self-presentation, and her hips seemed to sway seductively of their own accord. Her backside was very nice too, he noticed. Dropping the mop in the bucket of seawater, he again turned to the helm. What was that devil conjuring up now?

* * *

_Click._ The door shut and locked behind her, Alana stripped from her clothes and rummaged through one of her bags. At one point, she had thought about staying locked inside the cabin, but then realized that the Captain would most likely have a key to it, and would not hesitate to use it.

"Stupid ass…" She would have to work and she knew it. There was no other way around it, and she understood the logic behind it all. Although he pretended to be skeptical, Alana knew that Jack believed her account of magically appearing on his ship. Neither he nor she knew how much longer she would be there, and they were probably days from any port. Why would he let her mosey around when there was plenty of work to be done?

Even though she understood, she was still angry. Just because he didn't know her and she could possibly murder him in the middle of the night did not mean that he had to tie her up, right? Of course not! He obviously enjoyed harassing her, the sadistic bastard.

Finally changed, Alana smirked. Boy did Jack Sparrow know what he was getting himself into! They were two completely different people, from two completely different times, but Alana had one thing to her advantage – she was a woman.

* * *

Captain Jack Sparrow was sailing peacefully, humming his favorite tune and reading his compass, when he was disturbed by amurmur in his crew.

"Mother's love…" Similar exclamations sounded about the main deck, accompanied by catcalls. Smirking at what he thought one of his crew's idiotic attempts to amuse themselves, Jack turned to see what "scandalous" sight they were chattering about now. When he did, he almost choked.

Standing on the far side of the quarterdeck was Alana, clearly the subject that started all the ruckus. What was more scandalous was what she was wearing. He couldn't begin to describe the outfit, only to say that more of her body was exposed than covered. She might as well have not been wearing anything at all!

Ignoring the calls of the sailors, Alana tied her long black hair back into a pony-tail. Picking up the mop, she dipped it into the bucket of brackish water and began to clean the decks in her red Bikini. She found herself laughing mentally at the thought of them if she were only wearing a thong. _'The poor souls…'_

"What in God's name are ye wearin'!" Alana almost burst at the seams at the expression of Jack's face.

"It's called a bathing suit, Sparrow. Just a little thing from the future you're going to miss out on."

"Is it absolutely necessary that you wear…**that?**" he signaled her swimsuit with his hands. "You're distracting my crew."

"Of course it's absolutely necessary!" Alana replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "It's probably a freakin' ninety degrees out here! Besides, I know you don't _really_ want me to take it off…Do you, Captain?"

Had Jack not been a man of self-control, he would have taken full advantage of her against the very walls of his cabin. Her green eyes danced with a mischievous amusement as she teased him. Grinning, he turned to address his crew who were still gawking at the half-naked woman.

"Men! It seems we'll be havin' us a bit of entertainment for the next few days!" The men hooted and laughed at Jack's innuendo. All of them knew well that the second meaning of his statement was not serious. If they touched her, there would be serious consequences. "Just make sure ye don't get too off task, or I'll have to cancel the show," he added seriously. Not wanting to lose the new image of femininity (Anna-Maria was far from it) that was being presented to them, the crew immediately dispersed, though gazing at Alana with idiotic grins.

'_It really is pathetic,'_ she thought, as she found some of the sailors were reddening about their faces. As for Captain Sparrow…he seemed to be scrutinizing her from where he still stood. She had to remember now that the present time was one where women didn't show their ankles, much less their legs, arms, stomachs and a whole lot of other things she had no shame in showing.

"In case you're wondering, Sparrow," she broke his reverie, placing hands on her wide hips, "they're real." Jack's eyes shot up from her chest – which was _very_ well endowed in his professional opinion – and held a quizzical expression. "Just…never mind. Don't you have _captain_ things to do? I suggest you go and do them."

After briefly checking that his crew were still on task even though they were staring at their new guest (he knew they were; he could barely keep his eyes off her himself), he strode to his previous position at the helm and continued to observe Alana out of the corner of his eye as she picked up the mop and began her task. Her frame was lean and curvaceous. The muscles in her arms contracted ever so slightly as she moved the mop back and forth, her nigh naked torso moving in time. The rhythmic motion stirred dirty thoughts into Jack's mind, involving ones of her swaying to another beat – of the headboard in his room, of course.

Shaking his head slightly and laughing to himself, Jack determined it would have to wait. He could take her whenever he pleased, but there had to be a little bit of fun involved. _'A few days of Tauntin' will do the trick.'_ In the meantime, he would imagine all of the things he would do to make it up to her._ 'And when I'm done, she'll beg me for more.'_

Yes, for Jack Sparrow this was going to be a good two weeks to port.

* * *

**A/N:** Hi everyone! I know that it's been some time since I've updated the _Guess WHo's Back?_ story, but the truth is that it's been really hard for me to do so. I don't know why, but it just has. Hopefully this will keep your brains entertained long enough for me to come up with another one of those. By the by, I hear reviews _really boost an author's self-esteem_, so please **R&R!**


	3. Proving a Point

**Disclaimer:** Yes! He's MINE! _ALL MINE_! Evil laugh ... coughs, clears throat, coughs Nope, sorry folks. He's still not mine. Nothing is, actually, except for Alana Cording and any people/things not mentioned in the movie.

**A/n:** This chapter is rated MA for **ADULT CONTENT!**

_****_

_**Chapter 3 – Proving a Point**_

**__**

"Will you **stop that?**" Jack yelled as he swaggered from the helm to where Alana was mopping. Like so many times before, she looked up at him with innocent green eyes – he hated it!

"'_Stop'_ what?"

"Don't play coy with me, Alana! You know exactly what you're doing!"

Since the day she had "mysteriously" appeared on his ship – which he had concluded was truly an accident by now – he had given her nothing to do but scrub or mop the decks, not finding her very apt to do anything else on his ship. The real reason was he didn't very well trust her. She was sneaky. She had not complained about her task, though she sometimes suggested she could be more help in other things. Alana suggested quite a lot, he realized, and it was driving him mad. Every day she wore something different to fulfill her minor chore, but each outfit was as scandalous as its predecessor. This would not have been a problem to the pirate captain if only she was in his bed every night, but she was not. What bothered him above all was that she cunningly used it against him, purposefully scrubbing hard and causing her body to arch in unnecessary ways. Today she was scantily clad in her first outfit, the brilliant red "swimsuit" as she called it. He was finding it terribly hard to resist.

"Look," Alana spoke sharply, getting up from her knees and placing a hand on her hip, "if you don't like the way I clean your fucking ship, you can do it yourself. And that's _Miss Cording_ to you." To accentuate her point, she dropped the scrub brush with a _plop_ into the bucket. It seemed that every day she found herself in a battle of wits with Jack Sparrow, and she could not deny that she liked it, just like she couldn't deny that she found the rogue extremely attractive.

Jack glared at her through narrowed eyes, contemplating whether he should shoot her or ravish her. Then he snorted and grinned. "That's alright, love, I have better things to do. Besides, it keeps my men from hiding below decks. I think it's yer rear end that has 'em staring," he said with a wink.

Alana eyed him strangely and smacked herself in the butt. "Of course it is! This is Grade-A quality meat I've got here! Absolutely orgasmic!"

Tilting his head back, Jack scrutinized her down his nose. After a brief interval, he smirked in amusement and laughed.

"What?"

"You're all talk, love. You really shouldn't say somethin' you know nothing about."

"What makes you think I'm all bark, no bite? For all you know I could be the best lay in the world."

"Yeah," he rolled his eyes skeptically, "and next thing I find that you're a highly trained assassin."

"You never know, life's full of surprises!" she shrugged.

"That's true, but I highly doubt you're one o' them. Nice try though," he added grinning. "Really, if you wanted in my pants all ye had to do was say so. There's no need to try an' impress me."

Alana rolled her eyes and scoffed with crossed arms. "Trust me; to impress you is the _least_ of my worries."

Jack nodded his head in agreement with her, speaking in mock sincerity. "Sure ye don't, darling. A virgin such as yourself would never think of such things." Turning on his heels, Jack called to his helmsman and sauntered towards his cabin.

"How many times do I have to tell you, you moron? I'm not fucking virgin!" Alana's arms went flailing as she yelled after him. The crew around the ship looked at the pair by the helm at her exclamation, wondering what the Captain had said to anger her this time.

"Whatever you say!" Jack waved entering his cabin, a saucy grin plastering his face.

Alana stood in her place, seething with both anger and want. Giving a scream of agitation, she kicked the bucket and stormed off to his cabin, slamming the door behind her.

Everything on deck went quiet. Then…

"Three shillin's the lass'll flog 'im!"

* * *

Jack sat in an armchair drinking rum with his feet propped on his desk, when Alana burst through his door and slammed it shut behind her. He grinned, wondering what she would do now.

"Ah, Miss Cording, how can I help you?"

"Get up," she demanded. When the arrogant captain looked at her with a frown and pure perplexity, Alana sighed in exasperation. "Do I have to do everything **myself?**"

Curiously, Jack watched as the ill-tempered woman stepped behind his chair. It was then he found out what she was doing – well, at that moment, anyway.

"Bloody Hell, woman!" Jack yelled as she pulled the chair from beneath him. Standing up, he was ready to go off on her, when she started to pull off his coat. That being done, she rounded him once more and began to remove his vest, all in sharp jerky movements.

"What are you doing?" he asked in bewilderment. As a response, Alana removed his belt of effects, pulled his shirt over his head, and pushed him forcefully onto his bed before climbing atop of him.

Straddling him, Alana gave a brief answer. "Proving a point."

Before Jack could react, Alana kissed him harshly on the lips, forcing her tongue into his mouth and seeking his. What had gotten into her, he did not know, but he was certainly not complaining. Meeting her with an equally fervent kiss, his tongue delving deep into her mouth, he allowed his hands to wander over her skin.

Jack was taking his liberties with her, and Alana didn't like it. Pulling his hands away from her thighs, she nipped his lower lip roughly before pulling away. Beneath her, the pirate captain grunted with annoyance, though grinning like a cat.

"Couldn't resist me, could ye?"

"Oh, save it Sparrow," she hissed. "_I'm _the one proving a point, not you."

"But you don't have to, so why is it you've decided to be so friendly now? Could it be my good looks, my undaunting charm?"

Alana sneered. "That's something you lack greatly, so don't flatter yourself. Let's just say, I always like to be right." An impish glimmer flashed behind her green orbs, as she looked down intently at Jack. "This is how it goes. It's my games, my rules, so keep your hands to yourself. After all, _I'm _the one proving the point, like I said."

Jack grinned rebelliously, and gold teeth glinted slightly. To her surprise, Alana found she quite liked it. "And what if I don't comply?"

"Then I'll have to force you."

With surprising strength, Jack found his wrists forced to the mattress above his head. Of course, he could have easily over-powered her, but it was all so much more interesting this way. What he had said earlier was absolutely incorrect – this woman had plenty of experience under her belt. Smirking, she bit his lip gently before moving to his earlobe, grazing it softly with her teeth, and lapping the tender flesh behind it.

Working her way down his neck, nipping and licking all the way to his collarbone, Alana smiled to herself. It had been a while since she had a man, and Captain Jack Sparrow was a man in every sense of the word. She tried imagining the feel of him inside her, but knew she needed to be a bit more wet though. And she knew exactly how to do it. By teasing him, she could arouse herself, the taste of his salty skin sending a familiar tingle throughout her body.

Reaching his chest, her lips hovered over his nipple, her eyes boring into his as her hot breath taunted it. Grinning, she flicked her tongue briskly over it. Jack's muscles beneath her contracted at the contact, and she raised her brows bemusedly. This time, she planted her lips on it firmly and sucked hard once with it between her teeth. Finally, Jack succumbed to what he had been fighting, what Alana had wanted to hear from him – he moaned. Satisfied with the results, Alana pulled away and went back to his ear, ready to let him at her.

"Touch me." Her sultry voice was smooth as velvet when she breathed it into Jack's ear. The pressure on his wrists receded as the raven-haired temptress ran her hands down his tan arms. Lowering his arms, he snaked them over her butter-smooth skin – her arms, her chest, stomach and thighs. Captain Jack Sparrow was more than willing to comply. The at first mild throbbing of his groin had now escaladed to an almost painful stinging. Trying to draw out the process a while longer, he ignored it, instead sampling her neck and shoulders with his tongue. She in return rubbed her hands all over his chest, sucking on his ear, and biting down a little harder when he slipped his hands beneath her bathing suit bottom and gave her tush a firm squeeze.

"You wretch," Alana said teasingly, bringing her hips down on his and making him hiss.

Jack just couldn't take it anymore. The bulge in his pants was extremely obvious now, not only to the naked eye, but apparently to his nerve endings too, who were, by the way, yelling in uncomfortable pressure. He couldn't take it. He needed _out!_

"God, love, let me out."

With a cocked eyebrow, Alana replied, "Leaving so soon?" She yelped as Jack groped her, roughly squeezing her frame to his.

"Ye know exactly what I mean, ye saucy wench." Though his tone was deep and demanding, Alana took no insult in his comment, which was obviously meant to be playful. Besides, she had been called worse things in her life, she could put up with wench.

Flashing a face of mock modesty, she shrugged and let her fingers slide to the fastening of his pants, untying them with a quickness that even surprised Jack. When she was all done, Jack let out a heavy breath, the tepid air somewhat cooling his erection. It still throbbed like a bitch, though.

Alana, who had sat up, was now leaning over his member, with both brows raised and a humorous smirk. In reality, she was impressed – he was by far among the biggest she'd had. She chuckled almost, trying not to, as it twitched when she blew a cool breeze from her mouth. Alas, mischief does not go unrewarded, and that she found true, wincing as Jack took a handful of her hair in his hand and pulled her forcibly up towards him, ravaging her lips with his.

"Tauntin' the Captain is a severe offense, pet," he said releasing her mouth, his tone a husky growl. His long, elegant fingers, decked with silver, snaked down from her back to the front lining of her bikini bottom to administer the just "punishment" for her crime. This is where she stopped him.

The surprising strength was in her grip again as she pulled Jack's hand away and sat up. "Pardon me, _Captain_, but in case you forgot, this is _my_ game. Just lean back and relax," she said seductively, "and watch me. You'll get the hang of it." Dragging her hands slowly down her chest and past her naval, Alana fingered the lining of her bathing suit, all the while holding her gaze on the scoundrel beneath her who would from time to time look up at her face. Then, slanting her head to the side, she undid the ties that held the bottom together and tossed it on the floor. Naturally, Jack's fidgety fingers moved towards her again, and again she stopped them, bringing them to her mouth instead. Without further ado, she lifted her hips and impaled herself on his upright prick, lowering herself roughly enough to elicit a slight gasp from Jack.

Jack Sparrow looked up at this woman with shock at her abrupt take of him. It was not that he hadn't expected her to do it – she would do it eventually! – but he just did not think it would be so soon.

'_Nope, definitely no a virgin.' _Jack snapped from his reverie as Alana began to move. She went in slow circular motions, but every time she descended, she was forceful. Every time, Jack raised his pelvis to meet her with vigorous thrusts. Within short time, her pace increased, and she dropped his hands, dragging her nails lightly over his chest, past his scars and tattoos, all the while watching him through diminished irises.

They were already sweating. The hot combination of the sun beating on the roof of the cabin, and the lack of air conditioning was making the room all the more sweltering. Suddenly, with the mixture of Jack's hands exploring her body and a bead of sweat rolling down her chest, she had the urge to touch herself.

Jack watched through dark clouded eyes as Alana reached up to her breasts and slipped her hands beneath their coverings, no doubt teasing her hard nipples. His hands tightened on her hips, telling her only one thing. Faster, she went, harder, now twisting her hips and grinding down roughly. Tilting her head back slightly, she moaned erotically through slightly parted lips. Her green eyes stayed on his, looking down through thick black lashes.

Suddenly, she slowed quickly, before jerking down quickly on him again. "Alana!" came Jack's gruff moan. Again Alana moaned, engrossed in pleasure, and rode him harder still, his hands aiding her hips. She could tell he was close to his end, that he would soon be coming inside her, but Alana didn't stop. She had never cared for safe sex, anyway.

Everything went just as she had surmised it would. Upon one decent, he penetrated her deep enough, hard enough, to elicit a scream of pleasure from her rosy lips, as orgasm claimed her. The clutching of her inner walls around his cock combined with her warm flow of juices caused Jack to burst his seed into her with a final grunt, back arched. Time stood still as intense pleasure coursed through both their veins. After several minutes time, Jack opened his eyes to see Alana leaning over him, panting heavily with a wild grin on her face. Her hands were planted on his shoulders, and she was straddling him, but she had already removed herself from him.

"Not bad!"

Jack chuckled at her comment – a more labored chuckle between pants – as Alana rolled off him, removing a damp lock of Black hair from her face.

"With that, I agree," Jack nodded. It was another three minutes that the two lay side by side, slowing their heart rates.

"You just get right down to business, don't you?" Jack asked, turning his head to face her.

"Sometimes. But you have to admit," Alana added confidently, "I'm the best lay you've ever had.

"You seem pretty sure of yourself," he stated with a raised eyebrow.

"Say what you want, I know it's true."

Now he couldn't help but laugh. "Aye." It was a skeptical statement, but deep down Jack knew she was right.

"And-"

"And you're _not_ a virgin," he grinned.

Alana smiled a wild, crazy smile. "Great! Now that we're on the same page I can get back to work."

"You know, you really don't have to," Jack informed with his trademark grin. "The Captain won't mind at all."

"Nah, I must!" Hopping out of bed, she walked (buck-naked and shamelessly) to a small lavatory and pulled out a clean cloth.

"You don't mind, do you?" With a routine ease, she wiped her most sensitive spot dry and pulled on her bikini bottom. "Here, you might want this before you leave," she said, tossing Jack the used cloth, "wouldn't want to dirty your pants." Winking, she left and closed the door behind her.

Jack lay naked on the covers of his bed, one arm folded behind his head. He was thinking. Alana had come into his room and taken all charge of pleasuring him (and herself, being the real reason she had done it, he guessed.) It had been a week that he had wanted her, a long week of waiting, and now he had just had her. He should be satisfied now, the intrigue gone. But he _wasn't _satisfied, and the intrigue _wasn't _gone.

'_It should be easier to get her now.'_ He still wanted her, and he was determined to have her again.

'_At first the maid is hesitant to roll in the hay, but the second time she is more eager to spread her legs…' _

* * *

As the door shut and Alana strode back into the sunlight, the crew aboard the _Black Pearl_ stilled in their work. She smiled and picked up her bucket, ready to fling it into the sea again. A middle-aged member of the crew, Roger, nudged Mathew in the ribs and nodded towards her. As the youngest sailor, Mathew had become their herald.

Timidly, Mathew approached the black-haired Alana, and cleared his throat nervously. "M…Miss Cording..."

"What can I do for you, Matty?" she asked jovially.

"What," he shifted his eyes nervously, "what'd you do to Captain Sparrow?"

Alana's eyes danced with amusement, and she grinned, raising her brows suggestively before she walked off casually, calling back as she went,

"Just proved a point!"

* * *

**A/N: **Hello! I'd just like to thank you all for being so great. (Those of you that have reviewed, that is.) I'm sure there are more great people out there wink, wink ...sighs I would really appreciate it if more of you would review just to lend me advice, because I really don't know where I'm going with this so well. If you can point **_anything_** out that might help me become a better writer, I would be indebted to you.

Hope you liked the Chapter! (Naked Jack is always good! Lol.)

_"In with the early dawn, moving right along, I couldn't buy an eye of sleep  
And in the aching night, under satellite, I was not recieved  
With the stolen parts, a telephone in my heart, someone get me a priest to put my mind to bed  
This ringing in my head is this a cure is or is this a disease?"_

_- Audio Slave  
_


End file.
